


Longing

by Northern_Lady



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Forced Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:21:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4086541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Lady/pseuds/Northern_Lady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another Jaime and Sansa pairing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Longing

The Valyrian steel sword that Tywin gave Jaime was an unexpected gift but the words that came with it were even more so. Jaime had always known his father wanted him to be the heir to Casterly Rock. When Tywin reiterated that sentiment it was nothing new. But this time his father's lecture about family and duty was different.

"You will marry a suitable woman and take your rightful place as my heir. As Tyrion has failed to consummate his own marriage, the union will be annulled and you will marry the Stark girl in his stead." Tywin said firmly.

"You can't be serious." Jaime said, hardly believing it.

"I am quite serious."

"But Father she's a child. And I'm sworn to the kingsguard. I can not marry anyone." Jaime protested.

"Sansa Stark is a woman flowered and is older than many maidens who enter marriage. A one handed man can not serve the kingsguard. Joffrey will release you from the Kingsguard on the morrow and you will marry in a fortnight. Have I made myself clear?"

""I won't do it."

"You are my son and I know you well enough to know that you have a sense of chivalry. Sansa Stark is too valuable to remain a maiden. If you will not take her I will give her to Ramsay Bolton. I promised the Boltons Winterfell for their loyalty. Giving them Sansa will only serve to solidify that. But Ramsay will not be kind to her. If you truly meant that oath you pledged to Catlyn Stark then you will marry Sansa yourself and see to her safety."

Jaime was too angry for words. He spun on his heel to leave the room as quickly as possible, leaving the blade his father had given him on the table.

"Jaime." Tywin called after him. "Keep the sword."

The following day Jaime went to court as ordered. Tyrion and Sansa were in attendance as well. They listened as Joffrey dealt with several other matters of court. A dispute about the ownership of horses, a theft of jewels from a Lady, and the like.

"Ser Jaime Lannister." Joffrey called out. Jaime approached the throne. "The crown would like to acknowledge that the kingdom is grateful for your many years of service as a member of the kingsguard. However you are now hereby released from your duties that you may instead take your place as the Lord of Casterly Rock" The king said dramatically. There was a murmur in the crowd.

"Thank you your grace." Jaime said, knowing he must at least pretend to be happy about the announcement.

"As the lord of Casterly Rock, you will need a wife." The king went on. "I have already spoken with the Septon and the marriage of Tyrion Lannister and Sansa of House Stark is hereby annulled. As reward for your many years of service, Lady Sansa will become your bride in a fortnight." Joffrey grinned and shifted position on the throne.

"I am sure Lady Sansa will make a fine wife. I thank you your grace."

"And what do have to say about this, Sansa?" Joffrey demanded. All eyes looked to Sansa. She was blushing. "Aren't you glad to be marrying a man who's at least... taller?"

"I am grateful to serve the crown." Sansa said evenly.

Joffrey looked to be bored with her answer. He called the next court case forward and Jaime began making his way out of the throne room. Tyrion caught up with him just outside the door. Sansa followed him.

"Jaime, did you know about this?" Tyrion asked worriedly.

"I spoke to father yesterday. I told him I wanted no part in his plans." Jaime glanced over at Sansa. She was pale and shaken. "But it doesn't look like any of us get any choice in the matter."

"Father is making me leave the city. He says I am to leave for Dorne today and personally escort Prince Oberon as one of Joffrey's wedding guests. He says it is my job to restore relations with the Martells." Tyrion said.

"Relations with the Martells have been strained for twenty years. Why does he suddenly care?" Jaime said.

"To be rid of me I'm sure. At any rate, Sansa can not be left all alone in my chambers. You must keep her near you."

Jaime was about to ask why but Tyrion spoke in answer.

"Joffrey torments her every chance he gets. He's had her stripped naked and beaten in front of the entire court and ordered the kingsguard to strike her on many occasions. He's threatened to rape her. I don't dare leave her alone." Tyrion finished.

Sansa looked to the floor. This news sickened Jaime. "Of course, I'll keep her safe." He heard himself say.

Tyrion and Jaime said their goodbyes and Tyrion said an awkward farewell to Sansa as well. Then Jaime took her arm and led her back to his rooms. Sansa seemed nervous but she remained silent.

"I only have the two rooms." Jaime said when they reached his chambers. "You can have the bedchamber for the time being and I'll sleep in the solar. It looks like Tyrion already had your things sent over." Jaime said, noticing the chests of things just inside the door.

"Thank you Ser."

"Just Jaime is fine." He told her. She nodded but said not a word.

"How old are you Sansa?"

"Fifteen." She said, twisting a lock of hair around her finger anxiously.

"Well then…" Jaime was unsure what to do or say next.

Sansa reached for a book amongst her things and sat down in one of the chairs. Jaime realized he should have been offended that she didn't want to carry on a conversation with him but he wasn't. She was very nearly a child who likely didn't want to marry at all and especially not an enemy of her house. He wasn't really interested in having a conversation with her either. Besides, she was likely one of those quiet sorts of people who preferred reading books over speaking to real people. If that was the case he would see to it that she had a supply of books. It would make life easier for the both of them.

Jaime went to the desk and turned his attention to answering some letters that had been waiting for him. It wasn't easy to write with his left hand and he tossed aside three parchments that had too many errors for his liking.

"Seven hells, this is all wrong!" He said of the fourth one.

"Are you alright Ser?" Sansa looked up from her book.

"Yes, it's just these papers are all wrong. My left hand refuses to work as neatly as my right hand did. I'll simply have to write it again."

Sansa noticed the balled up papers on the floor. "I can write them for you if you wish. You would only need to dictate."

Jaime was tempted to refuse. If he couldn't write and he couldn't fight, what good was he? But his patience had reached a limit. He had never cared for reading or writing anyway. "Fine. Yes, that would be appreciated. Come sit at the desk and I'll tell you what to write."

Sansa did as she was bidden and wrote several letters for Jaime that afternoon. They only stopped when the servants brought the evening meal. There was very little conversation during the meal.

"I am growing tired. If you no longer need me then I will go to bed." Sansa said as they finished the meal.

"Of course. We were nearly finished anyway and it was no hurry to finish the letters." Jaime said. He settled to sleep on chaise lounge in the solar and did his best not to think about the future.

"I can not spend another day locked up in this room." Jaime declared over breakfast the next morning.

Sansa looked up from her plate, wide eyed and worried.

"Don't worry. I won't leave you in here all alone. I'll be going to the practice yard. You might bring some of your books or sewing and sit on the benches while I spar. You'll be quite safe there." Jaime said.

"Alright. If that is what you wish." Sansa said in a tone that seemed agreeable enough.

And so it became their routine in the days leading up to the wedding, each morning Sansa accompanied Jaime to the practice yard with a book and some small article for sewing. They returned to their room for the noon meal. After lunch, they went back to the practice yard and Jaime practiced further though sometimes he used other weapons than the sword. The pair of them spoke very little during all that time but they were observant nonetheless. Jaime noted that Sansa did not care for wine but she did like lemoncakes. She could apparently read quite quickly as she finished an entire book in one afternoon. And she did not care for riding either he guessed but she never uttered a word of complaint on the one occasion he asked her to go. Sansa realized after a few days that Jaime was greatly bothered by the loss of his hand. He spent all day every day trying to regain what he had lost. He was kind to her though. As kind as Tyrion had been and sometimes she found herself amused by his wit though she tried not to show it. She didn't want him to mistake her amusement for attachment. She was not attached to Jaime Lannister nor would she ever be.

On the fifth morning after Tyrion had left, Sansa woke feeling ill. The last thing she wanted to do was go sit in the sun near the practice yard. She wanted nothing more than to skip breakfast and go back to bed but she was unsure how Jaime would react to being asked to spend the day indoors. Sansa decided she would keep her illness to herself and do her best to proceed with the day as normal. However her handmaid entered the bedchamber that morning, took one look at Sansa and went straight back out.

"Lady Sansa is ill, m'lord." The maid declared to Jaime.

"Ill? Does she need a maester?" His tone conveyed only concern.

The maid returned to her side and placed and hand on her forehead. "She seems fevered to me m'lord. And her skin is as pale as snow."

Jaime poked his head in the doorway. "How are you feeling?"

"I just want to sleep. I know you wanted to practice. I will go as usual. I'll be fine."

"No, it's quite alright. Sleep and if you aren't feeling better this afternoon I'll send for the maester."

By afternoon Sansa was feeling much better. She got out of bed, dressed herself, and entered the solar to find Jaime flipping aimlessly through the pages of a book, bored. He looked up when she entered the room. "Feeling better?"

She nodded. "I am sorry to have kept you indoors. I know how you hate it."

"You needn't be sorry. No one can help falling ill. Besides it isn't being indoors that I hate. It's that I have no purpose here."

"But you do. You were keeping me safe." Sansa said, then looked down realizing she had nearly acknowledged to him that she actually wanted his protection.

"Yes, I suppose I was." He said all the while gazing at his golden hand.

It was then that Sansa knew that Jaime didn't think he was capable of protecting her. She didn't know a great deal about swordsmanship or if he was any good with his left hand but she did know that she was safe with him simply because of who he was. He was Joffrey's Uncle and the former commander of the Kingsguard. None of them would try to hurt her anymore as long as he was near. The name Lannister carried weight here in the south. She would still have to tolerate being bedded by him, but no one else would dare harm her now. Even if he could no longer fight, his presence was of value to her but she could not tell him that. Not without him getting the wrong idea. So she said nothing of it.

"If you would like to go to the practice yard now, I think I am well enough." Sansa offered.

"You've missed breakfast and lunch. Perhaps you should eat first." He suggested.

Sansa ate quickly, then followed Jaime out to the yard.

It was two days before the wedding when King Joffrey himself decided to join them in the practice yard. He brought several of his guards and stood in front of Sansa while his four guards took positions on all sides leaving Sansa surrounded. She stood and curtsied to him when he reached her. Jaime was still sparring and seemed unaware of the king's impromptu visit.

"Good day to you, your grace." She said.

"Sansa, I've come to find out if these rumors I hear of you are true." Joffrey said with his usual attitude and a smirk on his face.

"I am unaware of any rumors your grace." Sansa said, hoping that he would just get out whatever insults he had planned for her and go away.

"Don't be stupid. Did you think no one would find out that you're staying in my Uncle Jaime's chambers? It's still more than a week before the wedding. I know you wanted a Lannister baby but it seems like you could have waited a few more days and not made a whore of yourself."

Sansa blanched white. She didn't know what to say. If she told Joffrey that arrangement had been Jaime's idea he would claim she was trying to dishonor his Uncle. If she let him think it had been her idea he would probably seek to humiliate her further. So she said nothing.

"Well aren't you going to explain yourself?" Joffrey went on. "Have you always been a whore or is that a new development since you were given a taller man?" He snickered at his joke. The clash of steel stopped in the practice yard but Joffrey didn't notice. "Or maybe, maybe it isn't just that you're a whore. Maybe my uncle had grown so tired of his vows that he couldn't wait to have you. I can't say that I blame him. I'll have my turn with you too you know. The King can have whatever woman he likes."

"Are you quite finished?" Jaime stood behind Joffrey fuming with anger.

Joffrey spun around. "Uncle Jaime! I'm glad to see that Lady Sansa is recovered from her illness this morning. I was just telling her so, wasn't I Sansa?"

"I heard what you said to Lady Sansa." Jaime said before she could answer. "And I want to make two things clear. First of all, Sansa is staying in my chambers for her protection, nothing more. Secondly, she is to be my wife and I will not share her, not even with the king."

"I only meant to frighten her, Uncle. I want this traitor's seed to remember where the true power lies." Joffrey said, trying to redeem himself without seeming weak.

"I think she is frightened enough. We will be going now your grace." Jaime took Sansa's arm and led her away from Joffrey and his guards. Her hand was trembling as she tried to hold on to his arm. Once they had closed the door to the solar behind them she was unable to hold back her tears any longer. She all but ran into the bed chamber and curled up on the bed, sobbing.

Jaime sighed, supposing he must do something to help her but he didn't know what. He stepped through the half open door of the bedchamber and went inside, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Sansa?"

She sniffled and ceased weeping for a moment. "Yes?"

"I meant what I said. I won't allow Joffrey to rape you." He told her, unsure if it would even help.

"But he is the King. What if he commands it?"

"We'll leave this place. After the wedding we'll go to Casterly Rock. I promised I would keep you safe and I will, somehow." He said sadly.

"You don't think you can." Sansa said, it wasn't a question.

He didn't deny it. "You've seen me fight. I'm terrible. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't try." He reached over and lay his hand on hers, his golden hand because that was the easiest way to reach her from where he sat.

Sansa took her other hand and placed it on top of his golden hand, staring at the gold and lost in thought for some moments. "Why not wear a sword instead of a golden hand?" She said timidly.

"What?"

"Why not have a sword made that ties to your arm like your golden hand does? Maybe it wouldn't maneuver as well but..." She stopped, seeing the look of shock on his face.

"Seven hells!" He said with a laugh. "That just might work...that just might work..." He got up from the bed and hurried from the room. Then he poked his head back in again. "I'm not leaving, I'm just getting Ser Preston from the hallway."

Sansa listened as Jaime brought Ser Preston in and explained to him the message that he was to bring to the smith. He was ordering a sword just as she had suggested. Sansa felt a pang of guilt when she thought of Jaime returning to battle and killing more northmen but the Starks were all gone now anyway. He couldn't kill anyone she loved now even if the sword did work. Except for Jon Snow...

When the servants brought the evening meal, Sansa dried her tears and joined Jaime for dinner. He was happier than he had been in days and Sansa had finally stopped worrying about Joffrey for the time being. It was a quiet meal but a contented one.

The sword was not ready until the day before the wedding. Jaime took Sansa with him to pick up from the smith who made it. The sword was a short sword with a longer more elaborate banding to tie it on than his golden hand had. A scabbard had been made as well to keep the sword covered when not in use. Jaime didn't plan to wear the sword all the time of course, but a means to keep it covered in situations where he might be standing guard was useful. Sansa helped him to tightly tie on the blade and clipped the scabbard into place. Then she walked with him to the practice yard where Bronn was waiting. Some days Jaime sparred with Ser Illyn, other days with Bronn.

"Nice blade." Bronn commented when Jaime unclipped the scabbard.

Though she knew very little about swordsmanship, Sansa noticed an immediate difference for this match. Jaime was winning. He won three matches and found that he needed to remove the blade because the binding was cutting off circulation in his arm. It didn't matter though. It was enough to know that he could fight if he needed to.

"What would you like to do for the rest of the day, my lady?" Jaime asked her as he left the yard and came to the bench where she sat.

"I..I don't know..." Sansa hadn't expected this question. "No one has asked me that in a long time."

"Then I apologize for not asking it before. If you could do anything you wished right now, what would you do?"

Sansa's first thoughts were that she would be with her family if she could. But they were all gone except for Jon Snow. It would be so sweet to see him again but even that was not to be. She had wanted to write letters to her family while they still lived but the Queen had forbidden it. Perhaps Jaime was different. "Might I...could I write a letter to Jon Snow?"

"You can write letters any time. Are you sure you prefer sitting at a dusty desk writing letters to everything else?" He asked, not quite believing her answer.

Sansa looked down at her hands, trying to hide her tears. "You don't understand. The queen forbade me to write to any of my family since the moment my father was taken prisoner..." She stood, suddenly becoming anxious. "I am sorry. I'll not ask to write to him again. I am a traitor. I have traitor's blood. Please forget I even mentioned it." She tried to flee across the yard back to their chambers but Jaime ran after her, carrying the sword under his arm he caught her arm.

"Sansa." He pulled her gently to stop. She couldn't meet his eyes but he could see that she was still crying. "Sansa, I am not Cersei. I'm not going to punish you for missing your family. If you want to write to Jon Snow then I will see to it that Cersei never know about it."

"You will? How am I to know it isn't some trick?"

He held up his new blade in the scabbard with his left hand. "It's a trade. You gave me back the one thing I wanted most. Now let me do the same for you. A Lannister always pays his debts."

She nodded, still shaken with worry over the Queen finding out. Jaime walked with her back to their room and sat with her while she wrote her letter. She knew that there was a risk in writing a letter to Jon. She was not so naïve as to trust him to keep his word. Not anymore. But the possibility of getting a letter in return from the only family that was left to her in the world made it seem worth the risk. Sansa was careful with the words she wrote, knowing that others might read what she had written kept her cautious.

"Are your letters always so formal?" Jaime asked, glancing over her shoulder.

She looked up at him. "No, of course not but if anyone were to intercept this letter..." Sansa left the rest unsaid.

"Sansa, no one else is ever going to read your letter. I give you my word. Write whatever you wish and skip all the formalities. You can come with me to the rookery and see for yourself that no one else sees it." He said, hoping she could trust him enough for that.

Sansa gazed at him, wide eyed and disbelieving but she put aside the paper she had been writing and took out a fresh parchment. Jaime occupied himself by napping for the greater part of the day. He was bored but he didn't complain. It wasn't until after Sansa had gone to bed that night that he saw what she had written. She left the letter sitting openly on the desk.

Dearest Jon Snow,

I wish could have written to you sooner but I was forbidden. By now you have heard that I was married to Tyrion Lannister. That union has been annulled and I am to wed Jaime Lannister on the morrow. I will try to write to you more often after this as Jaime seems disposed to allow it. I know very little of what life has held for you on the Wall though I did hear that you became the Lord Commander's Steward. I would be glad for anything you can tell me about your life.

I have been utterly alone for the past three years. I have no friends here and must be careful that my words are never disloyal. I was not allowed to mourn Father's death, nor the deaths of Robb, Mother, Bran, and Rickon. I imagine that you must be as lonely as I am. Do you have friends at the Wall who helped you through the losses? I hope that your life these past years has been happier than my own.

I am sorry more than you can know that I never said goodbye to you when I left for the capital and you for the wall. And I am sorry that I never treated you as a true brother when we were children. You are all the family that is left to me now and I hope that you can forgive me for being such a selfish child. Though that is not all that requires your forgiveness. I fear father's death is on my head. He had planned take Arya and I home to Winterfell and because I did not want to go home, I told the queen of his plans. It was then that he was arrested. If you can forgive me for what I have done then perhaps I can finally be at peace. I understand if you can not. I can not forgive myself either.

Your Loving Sister – Sansa

Jaime read the letter through twice. She had said nothing about her feelings on her upcoming marriage. She must have known that he would likely read the letter. And clearly she blamed herself for Ned Stark's death. It hadn't been her fault of course. That had been Joffrey and Cersei's doing. He had been Robb's prisoner for a year and had known his share of loneliness but his father and brother and sister still lived and there were many in Kingslanding who he could call friends. He was nearly able to defend himself again with the new sword and the Lannisters had plenty of people in the city loyal to them who would defend him if he were ever unable to defend himself. Sansa, on the other hand, trusted no one, had no friends, and apparently feared for her safety every day. He had promised Catlyn Stark he would keep her safe and Tyrion had asked it of him as well. How could he claim she was safe if she still lived in fear? Jaime hadn't realized how difficult a task this would be.

The next morning four maids came to help Sansa dress for the wedding. The ceremony was a simple affair only a few Lannisters and members of the court were in attendance. There was a meal served in the small hall but not a feast like many weddings had. As the meal ended, the guests made their way out of the hall one by one as Tywin had instructed them to do ahead of time. There was to be no bedding ceremony. When only Jaime, Sansa, and Tywin were left in the room, Tywin spoke.

"Now that that is over with, I expect the two of you to consummate this marriage. Do not try to fool me with some stunt like wiping a few drops of blood on the sheets. I will sit outside your bedchamber door and be sure you have done as I ask." Tywin declared.

Sansa stared stoically at him. She had never expected to escape the bedding a second time.

"And if I refuse?" Jaime said through gritted teeth.

"Then I will annul this marriage as well and send Sansa off to marry Ramsay Bolton as I promised." Tywin told them.

Sansa felt sick. As much as she did not want to marry Jaime, Ramsay Bolton was far worse. It was enough that Roose Bolton had betrayed Robb and Mother at the Red Wedding. However even before then, her father had spoken of how the Boltons flayed men in spite of his having outlawed it. They were certainly not known for their kindness to women either. She was about to speak up that she would do her duty but Jaime spoke first.

"Then we will do our duty." He said, taking Sansa by the arm. "There is no need for you to follow us." Jaime told Tywin.

"That may be but I am coming with you all the same." Tywin said.

They went directly to the solar and closed the door to the bedchamber behind them. They heard the scrapping noise of Tywin dragging a chair to sit in front of the door. Jaime turned to Sansa, she was pale and trembling but her expression remained stoic, without fear.

"I'm sorry Sansa. It's either me or Bolton. I doubt he would even try to be gentle with you but you would be allowed to return to Winterfell in that case. The choice is yours." Jaime offered.

Sansa's stoic expression melted into confusion and she clamped a hand over her mouth, stiffing a sob. This was not a choice she wanted to make. It was either Jaime Lannister and the possibility of safety or going north to the Boltons where she would never be safe but she would be home. She turned away from him, hugging herself and struggling to regain her composure.

"No." She said when she had finally gotten control of herself. "I can not marry Ramsay Bolton. I will do my duty this night."

Jaime nodded, accepting her answer and his fate along with it. "I'll not make this more difficult for you than it needs to be." He said as he went to the windows and closed all the drapes, taking all the light from the room aside from one candle still burning on the bedside stand. "After I've blown out the candle, go ahead and undress and get into bed."

She did as he asked and undressed in the dark. He undressed as well and joined her under the covers in the large four poster bed. He reached over and found her arm. It was cold to the touch and she was still trembling. He slid closer to her, pulling her into his arms so they were embraced, skin to skin. She was stiff but she did not protest. He did not kiss her. He began by rubbing small circles on her back with his left hand. Then he began to grope her breasts and feel her body. If the room had been lit he would have seen her blush red with embarrassment. No one had ever told her that men touched their wives like this. In fact, no one had touched her at all for the better part of three years aside from the handmaids who helped to brush her hair each morning. What embarrassed her most was that it was not as unpleasant as she had expected it to be.

Jaime noticed the change in her breathing as well as the way she was resting her hands gently on his chest. He took more time to feel her body before settling himself on top of her. When he pushed himself slowly inside her, she was wet. She cried out in pain as he filled her up and his body went still. He waited for her to catch her breath before moving slowly out of her, then back in. A few more slow thrusts and her ragged breathing returned to normal.

Though it had hurt when he entered her, she could tell that he was trying to be gentle with her. He was clearly far stronger than she was and if he had wished to hurt her during this experience, she knew he could have. He had been kind to her the entire past two weeks and for some reason that she could not comprehend, the intimacy they now shared actually felt good. She liked the feeling of his skin on hers and once the pain subsided she began to enjoy the sensation of him moving inside her. She hadn't known anything pleasurable in so long and this, this was bliss.

Jaime was more than surprised when Sansa's breathing deepened and she began to buck her hips against him. He moaned and thrust into her harder, more languorously. At that, she moaned, and he began to increase speed. She was panting, the bed was creaking, and Jaime gave one last moan before going still on top of her. She felt somewhat disappointed though she could not say why. Jaime rolled off of her and they heard the sound of Tywin's chair thumping back into place as he left them alone.

Jaime lay on his side next to her and Sansa on her back. He reached over and placed a hand on her arm. He didn't know what to say to her. Some part of him wanted to apologize for hurting her but he knew he had been far gentler than Ramsay Bolton would have been. He was filled with guilt for having enjoyed her as much as he did. Not just because of Cersei, or because she was so young, but because this was certainly not what Catelyn Stark would have wanted for her daughter. Now that it was done, he decided he would not take her again for a long time. Not until she was older. Not until she was ready.

Sansa woke the next morning and found that Jaime was already up and packing things up in the solar. "We're leaving for Casterly Rock tomorrow." He told her.

"Oh. Then I will pack my things as well."

They spent the greater part of the day packing with the help of the servants, with the exception of a trip to the rookery to send off Sansa's note. Sansa said not a word when Jaime joined her in bed that night. She expected he would take her again and when he turned away from her to go to sleep she found that she felt sad. He didn't want her, she realized. She knew she was not ugly so there had to be some other reason. Shae had told Sansa that she was pretty and that she must be careful because all men wanted wanted pretty women. Jaime had been so kind these past weeks and it had never occurred to her before now that he might reject her. The queen had been right. She truly was a silly stupid girl. She had been stupid enough to enjoy making love to a Lannister and to want the experience repeated. Of course he didn't care to sleep with her again. She should have known it when he didn't kiss her. She was a Stark, and barely a woman at that. It didn't help matters that his affections were the only comfort she had known in years. She was a traitor to her family for allowing herself to want him at all. Perhaps she didn't deserve to be comforted. A few silent tears slid down her cheeks. She lay awake a long time before sleep finally found her.

The next day they began their journey to Casterly Rock. Sansa rode in a carriage with her two new handmaids and Jaime went on horseback with the rest of the men his father sent to escort them. They barely spoke by day and though they shared a tent, Jaime did not touch her by night. He knew that she had grown more melancholy since the wedding. In fact, he guessed she was probably quite miserable but he couldn't figure out why. The more he tried to give her space the more miserable she became.

"Sansa? What can I do to help you?" He asked her one morning on the third week as she somberly ate her breakfast.

"What do you mean?" She said, dropping her pastry back into the dish.

"I know you're unhappy and I can't think of a thing I can do to fix it. I could give you dresses and jewels but I don't think that's what you want. What can I do?"

Sansa swallowed. This was her chance to tell him that all she wanted was his affection but she was too ashamed of herself to admit it. "I don't know Ser." She finally said.

Jaime looked at her strangely. "I think you do know. I think there's some secret in that pretty little head of yours that you don't want to tell me."

Sansa nodded, trying with all her might to ignore the fact that he had called her pretty. "Yes, I'd rather not speak of it."

"Fair enough. But if you change your mind I will do what I can to help you." He left her then and went to tend to his horse.

That night, Sansa could take the loneliness no longer. She waited until Jaime seemed to be asleep and carefully slid closer to him, making every effort not to disturb the bed. He was facing away from her. She pressed her body as close to his as she could get. Jaime wasn't asleep. He felt her sigh as she pressed her cold skin against his own. He felt her wet tears soak through his tunic on his back. She was cold he decided. She had sought him for warmth. He said nothing and let her believe he was asleep.

They reached Casterly Rock and a bird had already arrived for Sansa with a message from Jon Snow. They had only just settled into their rooms when the servant brought it. Sansa sat at the desk in Jaime's new solar with the note in her hands, staring at the seal for some minutes.

"Would it help if I read it first." Jaime asking, thinking she must be afraid that her brother would not give her the forgiveness she so desperately needed.

She nodded and passed the note over to him. He broke the seal and read it, silently then aloud.

Dearest Sansa,

First of all I want you to know that all in the past is forgiven. I am not angry for anything that happened while we were children and I do not hold you responsible for Father's death. The fault for that lies with those who ordered it and carried out those orders.

I am well. I do have a small number of friends here at the Wall and I would be lost without them. I sincerely hope that true friends will find you soon. Being alone is one of the most horrible things we can ever know.

I feel I should apologize to you as well. I should have come for you long ago before it was too late. I want you to know that if you should ever find yourself in danger all you need do is send for me. I will forsake my vows and come for you before I would see you die. You are the only family I have left and you are not forgotten.

When you write again, please tell me how you fare being married.

Love Jon Snow.

Her relief was so great on hearing these words that she began to weep. Jaime went to her and pulled her into a hug, the first one they had shared since their wedding night. It didn't last long but Sansa was grateful for it nonetheless.

Several weeks passed. Sansa learned to take over the normal responsibilities as lady of the house. Jaime spent much of his time on the grounds with the men or in the practice yard. They still shared a bed but nothing more. Many nights Sansa would cuddle up close to her husband after he had gone to sleep. Jaime was aware that she did it but chose to say nothing about the subject. She was always so cold that he still believed it must be for warmth. One afternoon Jaime was looking for a blank parchment in his desk when he came across one of Sansa's letters from Jon Snow. They had been writing each other quite regularly and he had never read their correspondence since the first letters. This particular letter was folded up in the back of the desk underneath several other papers.

Dearest Sansa,

Sam and I found a weirwood while ranging north today that was so tall we could not see the top of it from where we stood at the bottom. It was so large in girth that it was larger than the east tower in Winterfell. Some of the trees north of the wall are more ancient than the first men.

As far as the other matter you mentioned goes, I don't think there is any need for you to feel ashamed. When we take vows we leave our old lives behind. You are a Lannister now just as I am a Brother of the Watch. You have been alone for a very long time. It sounds to me like your husband has been kind to you and you have done no wrong in longing for more affection from him. I want to see my only living sister happy and I will never judge you for taking happiness wherever you can find it. I don't care if that means you find happiness in the arms of Jaime Lannister or as the mistress of some other man. Life is too short to spend it in misery.

Love Jon Snow

Jaime put the letter back where he had found it. That night when Sansa moved closer to him he didn't bother pretending to be asleep. He turned to face her and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "Is this what you wanted?"

Something broke in Sansa at those words and a sob escaped her. "Yes... yes, I've wanted this for a very long time."

"Gods Sansa...Why didn't you say anything?"

"I was too ashamed." She whispered.

"Why?"

"Because I felt I was betraying my family...and because you don't want me..." She admitted.

"That isn't true though. You aren't betraying your family and I do want you. But you're young and I didn't want to pressure you into anything you weren't ready for."

"You think I am still a child?" She asked sadly.

"I think I'm old enough to be your father. It feels strange to me to have a wife so young. Perhaps I'm the one who isn't ready, not you." He told her truthfully.

She nodded, seeming to accept his explanation.

"I've known for weeks that you sleep close to me at night after you think I'm asleep. I thought you moved closer to be warm. It never occurred to me that it might be anything else until I found a letter from Jon Snow this afternoon. He said you were longing for the affection of your husband. Is that true?" Jaime asked her gently, brushing a lock of hair off her face.

She nodded timidly.

He sighed. "I can not promise to give you children, not yet, but I can pay you more attention if it helps. It is simple enough thing to hold your hand when we go out and to hug you while you sleep."

"Every night?" She asked anxiously.

"If that is what you want, little wife."

"It is." She admitted.

"Then you shall have it." Jaime pulled her closer to him and gave her a kiss on the forehead. He felt her sigh with relief and relax in his arms. She fell asleep moments later and Jaime watched her sleep for a while until he fell asleep as well.

When Jaime awoke the next morning Sansa was still in his arms and was already awake. "Feel better?"

She nodded and smiled, one of the few genuine smiles he had ever seen her give.

"Good." He said giving her another kiss on the forehead before leaving the bed.

The following days were happier ones for Sansa. Everyone noticed the change in her, everyone from the cooks, to the maids, to the maester and especially Jaime. She smiled far more often, spoke more freely, and seemed to loose the cloud of anxiety that had followed her for so long. Jaime could hardly believe that such a simple thing as letting her sleep in his arms each night could bring about such a change but he knew that must have been what caused it. He noticed the way she pressed as close to him as she could get, the way she relaxed in his arms, sighed at his touch, woke up with a smile each morning. One night she was ill and left the bed to go to the maester. He found he missed her presence far more than he liked to admit. The next night he held her tighter than before.

It was just past Sansa's sixteenth nameday when they received an invitation to attend a wedding feast at the Lannisport Lannisters. Some cousin or other was getting married and they were obligated to attend. They made the short journey to Lannisport and Sansa wore a new gown of Tully blue. The color brought out her eyes and the low cut showed off her bosom so that many of the men in attendance noticed her beauty. After the ceremony was done, the dancing began. Sansa danced several songs with Jaime until a young man came and tapped her on the shoulder.

"May I cut in?"

Sansa turned to see a dark haired young man of perhaps twenty years of age. He was muscular, with striking blue eyes and a pleasant smile.

Jaime nodded, though not quite willingly. "Sansa, this is Howland Plumm, one of my father's bannermen." He said wary of the way the man was gazing at Sansa.

"I am pleased to meet you." Sansa said courteously.

"Might I steal this beauty away from you for just one dance, two at most?" Howland asked Jaime.

"Only one. And then you will bring her back to me unbesmirched." Jaime said jokingly but it was not a joke.

"Of course, of course." Howland said, leading Sansa away.

As soon as Sansa was gone, Jaime was accosted by one relative after another. Aunts, Uncles, cousins, bannermen, and Knights all had to speak with him. He watched as Howland danced with his wife through two, then three, then four songs. They were dancing far too close for his liking, Howland was talking too much, Sansa was smiling too often and all these damned relatives wouldn't stop talking long enough to let him go to her. Then he saw Howland lead Sansa out the side door of the great hall and into the garden.

Sansa found that she liked Howland Plumm before the first song had even ended. He was handsome, charming, and witty as well. The way he touched her while they danced put butterflies in her stomach the same way Jaime sometimes did. In fact, Howland was very much like Jaime, except that he was a younger version. And he quite obviously didn't think her too young to make love to. Sansa knew he was being charming because he wanted her. She didn't want to be some man's mistress. Not really. Jaime had been good to her and had made her feel cared for in the past few months. She believed in marriage and in honor as much as the rest of the Starks. But she wanted to be kissed and to feel a man inside her again and she wasn't sure her husband would ever give her that. When Howland invited her to walk with him in the garden she went with him, unsure of what she would do if he made a move.

Jaime caught up to Sansa and Howland too late. The younger man's arms were around her and his lips on hers and she was kissing him in return. Jaime strode over and tore them apart, whacking Howland in the face with his golden hand, leaving the man knocked out cold on the ground.

"What are you doing?" Sansa cried out.

"What are you doing?" Jaime demanded.

She gazed up him with anger and tears in her eyes. "Finding out what it feels like to be kissed." She said walking away from him back towards the hall.

And Jaime just stood there in shock. She was right. He had never kissed her. Maybe she was young but she was still old enough to want a man to kiss her and make love to her. He had known she wanted more from him for quite some time just by the way she pressed close to him at night and he had done nothing about it. Why not?

He checked quickly to see if Howland was going to be okay and once the man had started to waken, Jaime went to the great hall to find Sansa. He found her in one corner gazing the others dancing, eyes red from crying.

"So, did you like being kissed?" He asked her gently.

Startled, she moved her gaze to him. "Yes... and no. Not by him... it wasn't right. I'm sorry."

"Dance with me?" He asked, offering his hand.

She went with him, expecting more dances like they had shared earlier in the evening but this time was different. His hands were on her backside, he pulled her center close to his, and his head was close enough that she could feel his breath on her ear and shoulder. He nibbled at her ear and kissed her neck, feeling her intake of breath at the sensation. Then he lifted her chin and he kissed her lips. He didn't care who saw them. Sansa needed to know she was wanted by him and the best way to make that clear was to display a little of that here for all to see so that she would never need to question it again. Seeing her kissing another man had nearly torn him apart. He had to make her his. Jaime kissed her again and again during the rest of the evening while they danced, sometimes with his tongue in her mouth, other times just nibbling at her neck. He felt her body through the gown, pressed near enough to her that she could feel his hardness and he didn't stop until most of the guests had either left or passed out drunk.

"Come with me." He said, taking her hand and leading her out of the great hall and up the stairs further into the castle. "There are empty bedchambers up here. We're borrowing one." Jaime found an empty room and locked the door behind them.

Sansa didn't need to be asked to take her clothes off. She threw them off almost as soon as the door was shut and threw herself into Jaime's arms. He began removing his tunic, she unlaced his breeches, all the while they hardly broke their kiss. He pushed her gently back onto the bed and climbed on top of her. She moaned when he went inside her. He wasn't patient enough to take his time with her, not after getting so worked up all evening. She didn't need him to be slow. She had wanted him for so long and was just as worked up as he was. He thrust into her quickly and she met his thrusts, wrapping her legs and arms around him tightly. This night, in this strange room was far more pleasurable than their wedding night had been. It didn't take long before her walls were closing around him and he was spilling himself inside her.

He rolled over onto his back and pulled her on top of him after that, keeping one arm under his head and one arm firmly around her waist.

"Tell me again, do you like being kissed?" Jaime asked her.

"I like it very much." She said.

"Good, because you'd better get used to being kissed more often."


End file.
